Shatter Me
by Skitts
Summary: Light/L; It was boredom that made him pick up the Death Note, and it was boredom that created Kira - so how can Light kill the only person who makes life interesting?
1. I: Laced

**Shatter Me  
**C h a p t e r / One

( Laced )

* * *

Bitten fingernails tapped against blue denim in a rather lackadaisical manner. Large eyes, round and dark, gazed at their surroundings without really _seeing_; after all, there was nothing to hold his interest.

Back hunched over, catlike, the strange figure continued to ponder, free thumb pressed against his lower lip.

Kira, Kira, Kira – they were _all_ talking about Kira.

Everyone.

He was not fond of exaggerating, and even if he wished to it all came down to one simple fact. _Why blow something out of proportion when it was causing mass hysteria already? _

Hmn…

The youth frowned, parting his lips slightly so as to allow his teeth better access to the poor, abused digit. Most of his fingers were ruined, actually; bitten down to the quick, coated in sticky red blood like strawberry jam.

Well…

Kira did not matter, for Kira could not touch him.

_He'd make sure of that._

* * *

Light Yagami sighed with relief.

Head lolling like a broken marionette, the handsome teenager drew a long, deep breath, savouring the cold air before releasing it once more in a steady exhale.

"Is Light-kun alright?" asked a monotonous voice somewhere to the boy's left-hand side. "Anyone would be surprised by a monster like that."

"I'm…" the boy paused, black-and-white memories beginning to dull slightly. Collecting his thoughts once more, Light turned to give L/Ryuga/Ryuzaki a disarming smile. "I'm perfectly fine. Thank you for your concern."

"Hmmn…" the detective muttered, black eyes falling upon the notebook in Light's hands.

"Writing somebody's name in this kills them, huh?" Light mused, more to himself than anyone else. He took another breath, shuddering slightly; he knew L would notice, yet he had a perfect alibi right there in his hands.

What normal human being _wouldn't _be shaky over the discovery of such a terrible thing?

Light frowned a little, almost as though someone had picked off a scab. His brain had (unwittingly) decided to take another little trip down memory lane, colours flashing, sound bytes whirring; it was quite sickening, really…

_Shinigami-teeth-laughter-lies-Misa-prisoners-suicide-Kira-God-eyes-murder-boredom-Rem-notebook-screaming-Ryuk-handcuffs-apples-counting-Ryuga-Ryuzaki-L…_

Justice.

"Ryuzaki… I'll compare the names written in here to the names of Kira's victims," Light said, voice still pleasant and hey, if it cracked a little, who would notice? A great, white, hulking monster was there (why, hello Rem) and he was holding a notebook – a mere notebook! – that could…

("_I will become the God of a new world!"_)

…that could kill people.

How bizarre.

How _boring_.

Light had calculated this scenario; had it down in his head like some sort of painting. He would be there, holding the Death Note – holding his memories – and Rem, frowning her pointy-fanged frown, and his dad, and Mogi, Aizawa,Matsuda**L**…

And they were all going to die.

With a wicked smile akin to that of a Halloween pumpkin's, the boy reached for his watch and began to click. One, two, three four – and in forty seconds, Kyosuke Higuchi would be dead. It was there, written on that tiny scrap of Death Note with impeccable precision; garish and bright and redred**red**.

It was all so_ easy_.

Much too easy.

Light turned to frown at his companion, although his displeasure went unnoticed; who _would_ notice when another man was a having a heart attack?

_I'm disappointed in you, _**L**, Light mused, one eyebrow delicately arched; Light was shouting ("W-hat?! What's happening?! What are you doing, Dad? If Higuchi dies here…") but Kira was laughing.

Kira was disgusted.

"B-But… No… This is… He's already…" Soichiro was muttering, voice conveying obvious alarm. Higuchi was lying at his feet, body unconscious (unmoving) across the cold tarmac.

_Yeah. He's already dead._

_How pathetic._

Light frowned (or was it Kira?), lips pursed slightly as though he'd swallowed a lemon. Anger, so bitter he could not swallow. There it remained, frozen on his normally handsome face into a cold, hard leer.

_I'm disappointed in you, Ryuzaki._

_I would… No, Kira_ _would have no fun if you were to walk into my trap just like that. This was a game from the start; a very dangerous game, between two _very _stubborn children._

_And maybe, like a small child, I don't _want _to win quite so easily. I don't want a hollow, empty victory made using pawns instead of the main pieces. That would be dreadfully dull, and I…_

("I've been bored, too.")

_This battle was between _us _from the very beginning; you and me, me and you. It has nothing to do with that _idiot _Misa, nor her lackey, Rem. They are not worthy to fight alongside me, for they could never understand my purpose, your cause…_

_But I will _still_ live._

_And you will die._

_You will die at _my _hand, _begging _for mercy; for, in a few weeks, you will know that going against Kira is a sin. You will know… And you will accept._

_Because I'm going to _break _you._

_I can hardly let you die a martyr's death, can I…_

L?

Light (Kira) began to tremble with suppressed laughter, (bloody) mocha eyes narrowed as he seized the last page of the notebook between two fingers-

-and tore it out smoothly with a barely audible _rip_.

L, despite his deductive abilities and advanced intelligence, failed to notice this, nor did he notice when the boy crushed the page of instructions in one hand and hid it in his pocket.

However, upon his hearing his alias ("Ryuzaki…"), the man turned to his head and was greeted by a most unpleasant sight, for this was Light Yagami as he had not seen him before.

Face cold, barely lit with a vague, sadistic smile, and eyes seeming to leak red…

He wasn't sat next to Light Yagami.

Not anymore.

* * *

**a.n: this was kinda inspired by emilie autumn's music, petshop of horrors, the book carmilla & swan lake, weird as that may sound…**

**feed me reviews, please? i'll love you forever :D**

**-sparklesparkle-**


	2. II: A Strange Device

**Shatter Me  
**C h a p t e r / Two

( A Strange Device )

* * *

"Well, Higuchi could've committed suicide…" Soichiro mused, words spoken with a fair amount of deliberation. His hands were spread out across a table-top, already overflowing with files and folders ("a complete list of Kira's victims during the last five months. Check them against the names in the Death Note," Ryuzaki had said bluntly, not caring to mince his words or sound polite). "He had the power to kill, so it's not impossible to assume that he could kill himself."

"But Higuchi killed people by writing their names down in the notebook. So wouldn't he have written his own name down?" asked Matsuda, eyes lazily skimming a list of heart attack victims.

It seemed he would much rather talk than compare names.

Aizawa was usually the one to chastise Matsuda for his time wasting, yet even he seemed distracted. "Yes, yes… If Higuchi could kill himself like that, why would he have pointed the gun at his head?"

"Maybe he figured it would be less painful than dying by a heart attack…?" Soichiro frowned, massaging his temple. "Who knows how this happened? A coincidental heart attack… Suicide… Another Kira…"

The man turned to Rem, who was busy surveying the task force with mild interest. Her teeth seemed to glimmer under the harsh, clinical lighting, almost like syringes. That alone was enough to make Soichiro's voice uncomfortably polite when addressing her.

"Which is it, shinigami?"

"My name is Rem," she replied, voice flat and emotionless. To L, it sounded almost as though she were reading from cue cards. "I didn't kill Higuchi and I don't know why he died."

At those words the detective frowned, thumb pressed against his lower lip.

It may not have been obvious to the others, but Light could tell the youth was thinking; filling in blanks and drawing conclusions, weighing up facts and stacking up figures.

Calculating percentages.

Despite L's obvious inner turmoil, his black eyes looked quite as hollow as ever; blank and empty, staring at a fixed point on the wall some eight inches away from Rem's ugly head.

Light had to hide a smirk by ducking his head, hair partially obscuring his mocha eyes. Fingers began to tap on his keyboard, not for research, but for something to do.

A façade.

Even during the final act, he was still playing his part to perfection.

Model student.

Perfect son.

He could not let his mask slip once, not even when he was imaging them all dying (horribly) with blood all over the floor and on his on his eyes…

_Let Ryuzaki think what he wants, _the teenager thought coldly, dexterous fingers dancing nimbly across the keyboard with little thought as to what he was typing._ There's nothing in the notebook that could incriminate me or Misa, and they'll never get information from Rem - she cares about Misa far too much to even _consider_ jeopardising her. There's no solid evidence against us, even with the Death Note. He still can't prove we ever used it; he's just grasping at straws, and anyway…_

_Nobody believes I'm Kira._

_To them, I'm just Light Yagami._

_Beautiful, beguiling and oh so brilliant._

"There are instructions written in the back of the book; test results have already confirmed that the ink used to write them is made of a substance that does not exist on Earth," Aizawa said, eyes flickering between Light and L.

Neither of them had flinched at the news.

L, for the most part, seemed lost in his thoughts, and both parties must have assumed this to be the case beforehand anyway, what with their unparalleled intelligence.

"I see!" Soichiro exclaimed, adjusting his glasses so they were not pinching into the bridge of his nose. All tedious paperwork seemed forgotten now, leaving Mogi to colour-code files in the background. "So, as Rem said, the notebook is from the shinigami realm, and the rules were written by a shinigami to allow a human to use it."

"How to use…" Aizawa began to read, voice clear as water. It seemed to cut across the room, silencing all. Even L leant forwards on his chair to hear properly.

"The human whose name is written in this note shall die…"

* * *

"Light…"

"Misa."

The blonde model flushed, pale skin (perhaps a little _too _pale due to being cooped up inside so long) taking on a rather attractive petal pink hue.

Girls were so… So _weak_.

It was so _easy_.

So pathetic.

Light fought the urge to smirk, instead settling on a disarming smile.

Misa, seeming overcome with emotion, began to sob, eyes watering slightly as she proclaimed; "Oh, Light! Misa will miss you so much!"

In a flurry of black ruffles, pink ribbon and the overbearing scent of dead flowers (which Light supposed was some sort of 'exotic' perfume), the girl had found her way into his arms, fingers snaking round his back like roots to a flower. Glued in place, with his arms pinched firmly to his sides, Light allowed his head to fall atop of Misa's, inhaling her strong perfume and strawberry shampoo with a small shudder of disgust.

For all anyone else knew, he was still Light Yagami.

He should be _happy _that his girlfriend could go home free.

Happy, and perhaps a little sad that they were saying goodbye.

Conflicted, then.

Ryuzaki and the task force had argued over Misa Amane's housing arrangements for quite some time. Matsuda had been of the opinion that the 'poor girl has been through too much!', and declared it would be cruel to keep her away from her normal life much longer. Ryuzaki had retaliated by stating, quite firmly, that there was no evidence to disprove that fact that Misa was the second Kira; for all they knew, she could own a killer notebook as well, or could _have_ owned one in the past.

"Ryuzaki, Misa-Misa has been under surveillance for _five months _– six and a half, if you count the time she spent in solitary confinement! Don't you think she's suffered enough?!" Matsuda had shot back, arms folded and a kicked-puppy pout plastered across his face.

Light had reason to believe that this sudden concern for Amane's welfare stemmed purely from the fact that the young man thought she looked attractive on that two page spread of Eighteen magazine in which she was wearing naught but a bikini, but decided not to bring that up.

Misa had been nothing but a nuisance; she would only serve to complicate his plans if she was to remain.

This battle was between him and L.

"Ryuzaki. I understand that you have no evidence to disprove that the fact she may have been – or in fact, still _is_ – the second Kira, but…" Light paused, as though thinking his words through. It was a lie and they both knew it – the teenager had planned his little speech quite extensively before opting to discuss it with the group. "I think you should let her go. She has helped further the investigation immensely, and surely even you can see it's taking a toll on her. She misses her home, and her family… And it would be cruel to deny her of that."

After much more arguing, which proved fruitless on L's part due to the fact that Soichiro and Aizawa had also decided to oppose him (something Light _knew _they would do after he spoke), the irked detective had finally admitted that "she would only slow us down in our future work." However, her flat was to be bugged; one could never be too careful.

Nobody had posed any objections to this arrangement.

_Let him try, _Light had thought, arms folded across his lap. _She gave up her Death Note, and nobody knows where it's hidden. She won't be any problem._

_I'm sorry, Ryuzaki… _L…

_But in this game I'm far ahead of you._

"I will miss you too, Misa," Light said, voice seeming to stick in his throat. As though annoyed, he shook his head slightly. "No… I should be happy. Happy that you can go free and… And live your life."

"Misa does not have a life without Light."

_Oh, please. Pass me a bucket._

"Misa, don't do anything rash," the boy all but pleaded, words laced with a careful amount of compassion. "We can still see each other. I'm sure Ryuzaki would let you visit-"

"Urgh! _Ryuzaki_!" Misa frowned, turning to glare at the spindly, malnourished detective as though his name was equal to the word 'cancer'. "He always _spoils _everything! Why doesn't Ryuzaki let Light go free with Misa? Misa will miss her Light so much!"

"Light-kun is still under suspicion of being the first Kira; I can't let him out of my sight. He himself agreed to these arrangements. And you can visit Light-kun here whenever you w-"

"But it doesn't matter if I visit Light 'cause _you'll_ still be there!" the Gothic Lolita scowled, head resting comfortably under Light's chin. "Misa wants some alone time with Light! Light is her _boyfriend_, you know! Althouuughhh…" the girl grinned deviously, letting her fingernails trace patterns against the fabric of Light's shirt. "It's not like _you'd _understand anything about love. I mean, you're so freaky even if you _did _fall in love with someone they wouldn't return your feeli-"

"Misa."

The girl blinked slowly, eyes flickering downwards for a fraction of a second.

Light had pressed his finger to her lips, a small frown adorning his face.

"Wh-What, Light?" asked Misa, stuttering slightly. Another hot blush was settling across her pale cheeks, lashes fluttering in swathes of mascara. "I was just s-saying that Ryu… That Ryuzaki will _never _get a girlfriend because he's so weir-"

"Misa."

And then, in a fluid movement so hasty one could blink and miss it, Light had bent down and pressed his lips carefully against the side of Misa's cheek.

Flaring like a beacon, the girl began to trip and stutter over half-formed words and broken sentences. It was from here that Light spoke her name once more – "Misa" – and, free to move his arms once more, placed his hands at her shoulders. "Go home, Misa. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"O… Okay, Light…" Misa muttered, voice barely audible above her hammering heart. "I'll… I'll go… L-Love… Love you, Light! See you soon…"

"I love you too, Misa," Light replied, yet his gaze was not fixed upon the pretty model (who was still stuttering and stumbling like a drunk), but on the detective chained to his right.

His black eyes were wider than per norm, thumb pressed to his lower lip as though contemplating something. He did not, however, brood on this thought for very long; a handful of goodbyes later ("I love you, Light!" "Yes, I still love you, Misa"), he gave a quick tug on the chain binding them together and said, voice still flat and monotone; "Come on, Light-kun."

Almost as though nothing had happened.

* * *

**a.n: light is a sneaky bitch, huh? getting l to wonder why he defended him (sorta) against misa. yay :D l/light-ness coming up soon, me promises. but i'm not gunna write misa out of this story completely becuz a) she totally advances the plot & b) i love misa! i love her nearly as much as l/light, which a helluva lot.**

**i was listening to cassie by flyleaf while writing this. good song. yay :D**


	3. III: Face the Wall

**Shatter Me  
**C h a p t e r / Three

( Face the Wall )

* * *

If L had been a normal person, he may have questioned Light's previous actions; brought it up in conversation, perhaps, and delicately tip-toed round the subject matter until presented with an answer.

L, however, was not one to tip-toe around anything, and the only aspect of his personality that could've been considered 'delicate' was the bizarre way in which he held things.

If he ever wanted to know something, he asked. Asked in a blunt, monotone way that was quite simply L all over.

But he hadn't.

Light knew that L was childish and, as such, he would treat Light's concern as some sort of challenge. Another mind game. He did not know _why _Light had done it, and he certainly wouldn't ask. To say he did not understand would be like admitting defeat, and confirming that the boy had managed to get under his skin.

Into his head.

And maybe, the teen mused, leaning back in his chair, _maybe L could've figured it out. Could have, if he wasn't so well versed in alienating people. Working in the shadows has its advantages, yes, but there's one key drawback._

_You don't interact with people._

_His deductive skills may be high, but his social skills…_

_Not so much._

_He'll be wondering why I defended him for ages, running the question through his mind over and over again… He doesn't take care with his looks, or his manners, but when it comes to intelligence… He'll be too proud to ask._

It seemed, with no other outlet for his frustration, that L was directing all his confusion at Rem. The detective was crouched in his chair as was per norm, black eyes affixed on the shinigami as though she were as interesting as a cauliflower.

"There are more notebooks in the human world, aren't there?"

"Who knows? There might and there might not be. The only notebook I'm required to watch is this one here."

He might have been interrogating a cauliflower as well, for all the answers he was getting.

L let out a small sigh, one that Light decided to take for masked irritation. It was doubtless that the notebook, the lack of evidence and the death of Higuchi were all weighing on his mind, but there was something else there…

Something was agitating him.

Which led to only one reasonable assumption.

_He's still thinking about it._

"Rem-san, the line 'you don't have the eyes' was in the video the second Kira sent to Sakura TV. These eyes allow you to see a person's name when you see their face, correct?"

There was a pausing, during which Rem cocked her head to one side, as though in deep thought.

Light frowned, and resumed his frenzied typing on the keyboard. Names, faces, heart attacks – some accidental death thrown in here and there, could be a coincidence, although perhaps…

_Ryuzaki, I expected you to figure out this much. You wouldn't be much of an adversary if you couldn't._

"What is it, Rem-san?" L asked, eyes narrowed slightly. Still in thought, he began to stack neat little pyramids of sugar cubes; ten to the bottom, then nine, eight, seven-

"Ryuzaki, that _has_ to be the case," Light affirmed, still typing. "They have to be eyes that allow you to see people's names after making a trade with a shinigami. That can be easily deduced based on the second Kira's comments and the incident with the cop during Higuchi's drive towards Sakura TV."

"Easily?" Matsuda whined, nearly dropping his coffee cup. "Well, it's not for me…"

Light pitied humanity sometimes.

Every time Matsuda opened his mouth, to be more precise.

"You two are very clever…" Rem said, brief, uneasy pauses fluctuating throughout her words. "It's something I should only reveal to the user of the notebook, but since you've figured it out I won't deny anything. That's exactly what they are."

L nodded in acknowledgement, still stacking sugar cubes (six, five, four) with a distant, almost detached look in his obsidian eyes.

"Then… What's this 'trade'?"

Rem began to open her mouth; a cavern full of glistening incisors and (three, two, one) she began to talk.

"Now that's something I can only tell the human who uses the notebook."

* * *

"Liiiiiiiggggghhhhhtttttttt!"

Said boy winced slightly as his eardrums were assaulted by a sound akin to that of a car crash. Misa, however, failed to notice her boyfriend's discomfort. With a high, girlish squeal capable of breaking glass, she pitched herself forwards into Light's arms, nearly toppling both of them other.

"Woah," Light laughed, hands finding her shoulders. With a carefully placed grin, he pushed her away slightly; blue eyes found mocha, and the girl's face began to flush. "Careful, Misa. You could've broken one of my ribs."

"Oh! Misa-Misa is sorry," the girl said, pretty face filled with a genuine sort of remorse. "She was just so excited – she hasn't seen her Light in ages!"

"Only a week," Light reminded her, grinning.

"To Misa-Misa that's ages and ages and aaggeeessss! Practically a millennium!" Misa squealed, looping her arms round Light's waist insistently. "Come on, Light! Aren't you going to give your girlfriend a kiss?"

The fashion model then proceeded to tilt her head upwards, eyes closed and lips puckered. Light, however, seemed less than happy to oblige. Sighing, he turned to give L an almost _apologetic _look, before stooping a little to grace the side of Misa's cheek with a quick peck. It was the sort of kiss you'd bestow upon an old family member who frequently mistook their glasses case for the television remote. Needless to say, it certainly wasn't the warm welcome Misa had been hoping for.

"Perhaps Light would kiss me properly if Ryuzaki wasn't watching!" said the disgruntled blonde, coyly winding one blonde pigtail round her index finger.

"I wasn't looking," L was only too quick to assure her – doubtless, he was attempting to avoid an argument. The detective wasn't looking too good. Worse than usual, if such a thing was even possible.

He'd slept only ten or twenty minutes in the past week, and that was only because he'd fallen unconscious when Matsuda was trying to talk to him about something-or-other.

Which was perfectly understandable, but still…

It just wasn't _like _L to fall asleep in front of Light. It would seem, in the detective's eyes, like losing another challenge. Not to mention the vulnerable position it put him in.

Perhaps it had been another test, then?

_Ha. Maybe he thought I'd try to murder him, so he could wake up and tell everyone I'm Kira. I don't think he'd underestimate me (well, Kira) that much, though._

Either way, L just wasn't looking _healthy_. His skin had lost any pigmentation it may have had before, and he seemed quite content to gnaw on his (now non-existent) fingernails until they were reduced to bloody stumps.

It was obvious, what his sickly appearance and those huge black bags that seemed determined to swallow the rest of his face, that he wouldn't be able to stand any of Misa's demented shrieking.

Or maybe he could stand her demented shrieking, but perhaps only for five seconds.

After that, he'd probably kick her.

Or get down on his knees and beg Kira to murder him.

"Misa, why don't we watch one the DVDs you brought?" Light asked, voice synthetically cheerful, one hundred percent rainbows and lollipops.

Mercifully, Misa was distracted from her mandatory shouting and senseless insults. After a pause, she finally decided to return Light's smile with a smaller, more tentative one, as though torn between immense joy and great sorrow.

"Um, sure! We can watch DVDs if Light wants too! Misa was gonna suggest that anyway! We're so similar, Light," Misa beamed, bending over to retrieve the bag she'd dropped earlier. "But… Oh, Misa-Misa would _love _it if we could go out somewhere together," the model bemoaned. "I know a really nice coffee shop – and the _strawberry sundaes_! Oh my God! But Misa-Misa can't eat too many sweets, because the carbohydrates go straight to Misa's hips! Misa-Misa just wants to look good for her public… And for Light, naturally. If Misa didn't look this good, Light might not love her anymore!"

If L had been in better spirits, perhaps he would have used that lull in the conversation to talk about thinking, and actually _doing _it for once. Light could still remember the spindly youth's previous talk on the subject ("_if you use your head, you can eat sweets without gaining weight"_). The detective, however, opted for remaining quiet and examining the carpet, which was less likely to shout at him if he reprimanded its eating habits.

"Don't be silly, Misa," Light said, leading both the fashion model and the detective over to a sofa. "I'll always feel the same about you, no matter what you look like."

_Even you had another head, it'd be as stupid as you._

"Yay! Light says such nice things to his Misa-Misa!" sighed the model, swaying slightly under the weight of her ardour. "But Misa still wishes they could go to that café together. It's not fair, Light! Ryuzaki gets to be with you all of the time – he even got to sleep with you before I did!"

"In a completely platonic, 'I suspect you of being Kira sort of way'. Of that I can assure you, Amane-san."

"But Misa misses Light sososo**SOOO** much! You can't have him all to yourself, that's just selfish! Why don't you _leave him alone_?!"

Light frowned, as though he had a headache (which didn't take much acting on his part, considering he _did _have a headache). Rubbing his temple in a distracted way, the boy said; "Misa."

And she shut up.

Just like she always did.

But Light wasn't done.

"Misa, don't be difficult. Working on the Kira case is very tiring, and neither me nor Ryuzaki appreciate your shrieking. Please try to keep your voice down, and put some thought into what you say. It's not very pleasant, you know."

Misa's face flushed an unpleasant crimson colour, all bouncing coming to a halt. Even her pigtails seemed to droop.

"Well… Um… Misa will stop insulting Ryuzaki - but that doesn't mean Misa likes him! Nu-uh. Misa is just doing it for Light, because Misa _loves _Light and will do whatever he says! Yep yep, that's it!"

Light couldn't fail to notice the bemused expression on L's face, nor the way he chewed his thumbnail with such vigour it seemed dangerous of snapping in two.

_He doesn't understand my concern at all – it's messing with his head._

_Well, I might as well go in for the overkill._

"Ryuzaki," Light whispered, voice barely audible above the squealing high school girls in short skirts that were currently parading across the television screen. "Ryuzaki…"

The detective barely bothered to raise his head, giving only a small "hmn?" in acknowledgement. When Light lay his fingers on L's hand, however, his back stiffened, and his head hung even lower. Perhaps to hide his surprise, or maybe…

Maybe he was blushing?

"Don't bite your fingernails like that – you'll make them bleed," said Light, sighing a little as he withdrew his hand, L's own one falling to his lap.

"Y-Yes…" L muttered, and Light was delighted to note that the faintest hint of a _stutter _was laced between with the words. With a quick, painful intake of breath, L raised his head, cheeks stubbornly pale. What came from his mouth next sounded forced, as though he was fighting to keep his voice under control. "I apologise, Light-kun. I hope I didn't bother you."

"No," Light smiled, leaning back his chair. "That's alright."

It was a lie, of course.

It wasn't alright.

_It was perfect._

* * *

**a.n: hmn, it's a little longer than last time. i didn't see how i could further light's plan in a vaguely ic way without using misa again, so yea. i'm not /just/ going to use her, though, so don't worry :D**

**i was listening to hey juliet by lmnt while writing this. it's such a happy song -giggles- but doesn't really fit with this story at all xD**


	4. IV: Cold

**Shatter Me  
**C h a p t e r / Four

( Cold )

* * *

"Ryuzaki…?"

There was no reply.

"Ryuzaki?"

Again, nothing, save for the frenzied tapping of computer keys.

It seemed, judging by the speed of those agile fingers, that the spindly detective was ignoring Light. Either that or he'd gone momentarily deaf. However, as Light was pretty sure the chance of such an occurrence was sitting in the 0.00001 percentile, it was much more likely to be the former.

And Light didn't like being ignored.

"**L**," Light hissed.

It wasn't a question. Not anymore.

Instead, it was short and sharp, like a command; the sort of voice Sachiko used when Sayu didn't want to tidy her bedroom.

"Hmn? What is it, Light-kun?" asked the detective, tilting his head in acknowledgement. It was almost as though he'd forgotten he had an alias, though L was no more his real name than Ryuzaki.

"You should be dead by now," Light stated in a blunt, detached sort of way, choosing to take a leaf out of the detective's own book.

It got his attention, at any rate.

"Oh…?" L muttered, thumb finding the inside of his mouth, a sub-conscious gesture brought about whenever he was presented with a difficult problem. Luckily, that was not too often; if he had a lesser mind, his thumb would be non-existent due to that unfortunate quirk. "Would Light-kun care to elaborate?"

Light obliged, leaning back in his swivel chair, one leg crossed over the other. Confident, yet vaguely arrogant. His chosen stance was almost the polar opposite of L's; hunched and withdrawn, like a clam.

"You haven't slept for seven days – eight, if you count today," Light's mocha eyes flickered downwards to his watch. Three o'clock. In the morning. "Most normal people would be absolutely _exhausted_."

"But I'm not a normal person. I thought that Light-kun, what with high IQ, would be able to deduce that," L said dully, pulling his thumb from his mouth. It was coated in ugly marks, red and raw from constant abuse. With a look of mild intrigue, L raised the thumb back to his lips and began to nibble a hangnail.

"Either way, it's just not _healthy _to run on so little sleep; you'll tire yourself out," and then, as an afterthought; "I don't suppose seeing Misa helped very much, either. She can be rather loud."

"I thought Light-kun was in love with Misa-san? Surely your feelings for her must outweigh the negative aspects in your relationship. Unless…" L allowed his voice to trail away, face a vacant mask of innocence.

Even with the carefully-placed barriers, Light (Kira) could still read the motive behind the façade.

_And it's not going to work._

"Ryuzaki! I _know _what you're doing!" Light cried, mere milliseconds elapsing before his response. Artificial anger; clenched fists, narrowed eyes. It was all fake, every plastic-perfect millimetre.

_Well, ha ha._

_My mother would be so proud._

"What is it that Light-kun suspects me of doing?" L inquired sweetly, words laced with some of the saccharine used to flavour his cake and coffee; anything that passed his lips, really.

Light hadn't known he was capable of channelling it through his voice, though.

It was… interesting, to say the least.

"You're testing me again," Light spat, teeth gritted and arms folded. "Using Misa – _my girlfriend_ - as a way to determine whether or not I'm Kira, and I don't like it – I want you to know that, although… I doubt that would make you stop. But…" A sigh, fingers running through auburn hair. It was getting long again. "But I'm _not _Kira. I'm not."

"Light-kun is playing like a broken record. He seems incapable of saying little else. However, not even Light-kun can deny the fact that he does not love Amane-san. He said it himself."

Another sigh.

"Initially, no; I didn't love Misa. I thought she was rather obnoxious. But over the past few months I've… I've started to feel affection for her. She risked her life for me – and the investigation, I suppose. She just grew on me."

Like some horrible, constricting fungus.

Being with Misa was like being smothered; in her arms, pressed against her lips, fingers in her hair. Strong perfume. Chains. Metaphorical, of course. Even so, Light didn't like being bound to anyone – the fashion model nor the detective – because Gods should be above all that.

He _would _be above all that.

_Someday…_

"But Light-kun…"

"Yes?"

"If you care for Amane-san so much, why were you defending me?"

It was a carefully constructed sentence, devoid of shakes and stutters, seeming almost… Absent-minded, somehow. Almost as though L was asking about the weather.

And, Light mused, if he wasn't brilliant (which was not arrogance – it was the _truth_) he may have been taken in too.

_But I'm not like everybody else._

_I know how long you've been wondering that, and I think _you _know I know as well – you're chewing your thumb again, and looking…_

_Worried? Anxious? Scared?_

_No._

_Apathetic._

_But I wonder what's _behind _that apathy. If I was to peel all that useless dead skin away…_

_Over the past week, you've had nothing else to ponder; no new victims of Kira, no more evidence. After Higuchi died everything just _stopped. _Just as planned. And you're floundering. You want me to be Kira, but you can't find any proof – and even if you could, the others wouldn't listen to you. Matsuda? Ha. And my _father? _No. You don't have a chance._

_You've been working yourself to death, looking for new information, watching Misa. She's not helping, either; putting on make-up, singing in the kitchen, talking to 'Reiko' and 'Chou' and 'Haruka' on the phone – and of course, all of those are tapped, but long, long, l o n g talks about mascara and lip-gloss aren't exactly helpful for the investigation._

_So there's nothing left to ponder except why I'm being so 'nice' to you, and doubtless you think this is one of Kira's new schemes, but…_

_But my plan's working._

_I have control of your mind._

_In the end, I'll also have your body._

* * *

The detective was curled up on himself like a cat, back arched. If Light tilted his head a little, he could see vertebrae ridged painfully through the back of his white shirt; sickly and malnourished and angles all over, as though he were a being made primarily from elbows and awkward joints. It was strange, how he managed to stay so stick-thin despite all the cakes and sweets he consumed…

(_"I don't like sweets! They're fattening!"_

"_But if you use your head, you can eat sweets without gaining weight."_)

Light smirked, mocha eyes flickering over the still detective with something akin to triumph.

(_"If you care for Amane-san so much, why were you defending me?"_

_Breathing – in and out, in and out; fingers clenching, eyelashes fluttering and hands through hair. Light turned his head, staring at the floor._

_White._

_So very white._

_Almost like a hospital._

_Just like that time his dad had a heart attack. Just like that time – years and years and _years _ago – that Sayu had been ill, dangerously ill, and Light had been waiting outside then, hand-in-hand with Sachiko, eating his way steadily through a packet of skittles and watching the clock – and he'd never really liked sweet things since…)_

It was strange how much meaning was placed in words. They were only sounds - fairly primitive. Any animal could make noise.

That didn't mean it held any importance.

So why was it so important, then? How could something so basic affect creatures so advanced? It didn't really make any sense. Then again, killer notebooks and shinigami… That wasn't even _real_; or at least, wasn't meant to be, like some sort of twisted fairytale.

(_"It is strange to see Light-kun lost for words," L remarked, blank eyes staring. "Normally, he never shuts u-"_

"_Okay! Okay, Ryuazki."_

_A pause._

"L. _The reason… The reason behind that – all of that – is…"_

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

_Inha-_

(_"Because I really _do _think you're my friend!")_

And L's eyes had gone large – larger than normal, at any rate – and he had said that this was a trick, one of Kira's new plans because obviously, _obviously_, Light did not mean that.

Light was a good actor, but L would not be his audience.

And…

_(Inhale._

_And._

_Exhale._

_And._

_Inhale._

_And._

_Exha-_

"_No. I _do _mean it. You don't have to believe me. I mean, we seem to spend all our time arguing-"_

_A nervous laugh_

"_-but… But you're the only person I can talk to on my own level. Misa's not as intelligent as you, and all her arguments dissolve into childish name-calling. You're childish too, of course, but…"_

_Inhale_

" _I _know _you think I'm Kira, but when you said I was your first ever friend, it was the same for me too. I can't even talk to my family, not like I can talk to you; not my parents, not Sayu – definitely not Sayu, and…"_

_Exhale_

"_I like our conversations and our arguments and I… I like you as well, Ryuzaki. I value your company. Truly."_

_Inhale_

"_And I don't want you dying because of insomnia or anything."_

_A sigh…_

"_That's all."_)

The detective had protested. Of course he had. Light might like Ryuzaki but Kira was the enemy and L would (**had to**) catch Kira and oh, it was all rather confusing but so straightforward really, and Light had to wonder how many people were actually in the room, how many people were in Ryuzaki's head.

(_"Light-kun is my first ever friend."_

_but…_

"_Light-kun is Kira."_)

Even when Light had finally coerced the detective into bed (because Light-kun might be Kira, but L was _definitely _tired) he did not shift from his habitual crouch, thumb in mouth and eyes large.

Empty.

He didn't want to go to sleep.

(_Light-kun is Kira.)_

He didn't want to be vulnerable.

(_Light-kun is my first ever friend.)_

But Light had shifted on his side, eyes closed and breathing slow, steady, because L had finally succumbed to fatigue, believing in his victory for those few split seconds before his head hit the pillow.

Light smiled once more, red lips and pale skin, arms encircling the detective as though claiming him; fingers in his hair, face, chin, neck, doodling hearts and tracking shapes.

It was an odd, half-formed thought, fleeting – like April runs into May – but, for a few seconds, the limp detective's skin seemed impossibly cold…

Just like a doll's.

* * *

**a.n: this update was so late, and late updates are really uncool D: i'm sorry! i was just busy watching paranoia agent in all my free time xD has anybody seen that series? it's pretty damn awesome. they should totally do a sequel and call the main character shounen hockey-stick –giggles- it could REALLY catch on xD –has a lame sense of humor-  
**

**i blame all spelling/grammar errors on the fact that i was wearing a misa wig while writing this. and, yanno. it is sapping my iq xD**


	5. V: A Cure?

**Shatter Me  
**C h a p t e r / Five

( A Cure? )

* * *

"Uh… Umn?"

L blinked slowly, onyx eyes large and glassy. He didn't like sleeping; to him it was a waste of time, not entirely dissimilar to eating three meals a day and personal hygiene. Both seemed rather frivolous, but sleep was a much longer, tedious process, and therefore the most pointless. By about twenty-three point zero one percent.

Shapes and lines began to blur into one. L's eyelashes began to flutter, a desperate attempt to rid his vision of white-and-red-and-black spots, clustered in giant swathes of colour. It was like looking into a kaleidoscope whilst suffering from motion sickness. Everything was _moving_, and his head hurt, and he felt ill.

He couldn't remember ever feeling this terrible.

Perhaps it was due to insomnia, but sleep always left him feeling more listless than before.

That awful headache wasn't helping much, either.

His skin was now even paler than the bedcovers, hair a violent shock of black, ink on paper. The bags under his eyes were still of monstrous proportions, perhaps even more so than yesterday, his deductive abilities seemed slow and sluggish, and he really, really wanted (_needed_) some coffee.

With nineteen sugars.

L sighed at the thought, squeezing his eyes shut in order to dispel a fresh onslaught of imaginary rainbows and hazy surroundings.

Once the dizziness had subsided somewhat, leaving naught but a lethargic state of mind and a dull pain somewhere-or-other at the back of his head, the youth began to recollect some vague sense of semi-consciousness and, with it, began to form a list of priorities.

Coffee.

Watari.

And then, as an afterthought, his brain began to scribble one last quick memo, underlined ten times and tacked hastily onto the bottom of the list with an ugly, fluorescent yellow post-it note.

_**Now.**_

With those coherent thoughts in mind, the detective turned to call for Watari and, subsequently, a large cup of coffee and some strawberry cheesecake. But really, the detective wasn't picky about food as long as it met certain criteria; A) it was edible and B) it was covered in sugar.

However, it was at this exact moment that those deductive skills he was so renown for began to kick into action; a computer booting up after being given a good kick in the side by an irate businessman.

But the one key factor that brought L out of his sugar-deprived reverie was not a swift kick, nor was it an irate businessman.

It was an arm, oh-so-casually draped across his middle.

And of course, it was only logical to assume that the arm was connected to a body.

But who's body…?

Well.

L's eyes widened to almost comical proportions, passing countless similes along the way; orbs, plates, planets and then, finally, black holes. Vast and encompassing.

Caramel hair. Mocha eyes. Creamy skin.

L had to mentally berate himself, because now he was unsure whether he was describing a latte from Starbucks or a tall, good-looking boy who was, oh yes, _suspected of being Kira._

Every silver lining has a cloud.

And vice versa.

"L… Light…" the detective whispered, honorific abandoned due to shock, surprise and a faint, fluttery feeling somewhere in his abdomen.

Maybe he had flu?

It was something else to blame Kira for, at any rate.

L's face, although deathly pale, was beginning to heat up; a warmth that intensified tenfold once Light's eyes snapped open, a small smile adorning his face.

He'd _heard_.

L was suddenly, painfully aware of just how _close_ Light was. He could feel his breath, smell his shampoo, count every single eyelash that framed those large, endless depths…

"Yagami-kun's arms are around me," L stated bluntly; carefully dissecting the strange, borderline _bizarre_ scenario. Detached. Deadpan. Just the same way he handled his cases. It was simpler that way. "What is the reason for this?"

The change in name had Light narrowing his eyes, irked. The distance between them wasn't physical, but somehow, it seemed as though they were stood at opposite ends of the room.

"You were cold."

L's voice remained blasé. "You have never shown interest in my wellbeing before, Yagami-kun. Your behaviour has been rather strange lately. Hmn. I wonder…"

Light remained silent, yet made no move to withdraw his arms.

"It may just be a coincidence, yet I have noted distinct changes in Yagami-kun's behaviour ever since we apprehended Higuchi. Ever since he touched the notebook, to be more precise."

"What are you saying, Ryuzaki?" asked Light, eyes narrowed. There was still a smile, yes, but it was cold. Forced.

"I am saying, Yagami-kun, that I think you are Kira."

There was no trace of a smile on Light's face now. Instead, he looked angry. This Light Yagami bore a striking resemblance to his younger, more innocent self. The one who'd punched L in the face. The one who'd said "I'm not Kira! I'm **not**!" so convincingly L almost (_but not quite_) believed him.

That Light had seemed a thousand miles away ever since that notebook appeared, yet L knew he _had _existed, once upon a time.

He still had the bruises.

"Ryuzaki, I _refuse_ to stand here and listen to these accusations! I've told you over and over again, I'm **not **Kira!"

L blinked up at Light in a rather owlish manner, aware of the youth's increased height. He had risen to his feet mid-way through the frustrated shouts - probably for a feeling of authority. He seemed oddly imposing against a bland backdrop of beige walls, cream furniture.

L drew his knees towards his middle, back arched in anticipation.

"Kira is a good actor, but he needs to find a new audience."

And Light's face twitched.

A punch was thrown in L's direction, however, waiting for an attack, the lithe detective twisted to one side, landing, catlike, on the floor. Light turned wildly, an unpleasant crack! resounding through the air as L's foot smashed upwards into Light's stomach.

With a shocked gasp, Light staggered backwards, hitting the floor alongside L; the sudden movement and subsequent tug of the handcuffs had overbalanced him, slight and skinny as he was.

Snarling in pain, Light pulled himself back up and twisted, fist slamming into L's middle, only to receive another vicious kick, to the face this time.

A warm liquid began to bubble from Light's lower lip; a thick stream of crimson, smeared across his chin like garish lipstick.

None of their previous fights had been so wild, nor so destructive; chairs were overturned, paperwork scattered to floor like vast, white butterflies. Light's back was smashed against the wall; L was thrown roughly into a bookcase, slumping forwards. A gash was beginning to open up at the back of his head, drip-drip-dripping a steady path down his pale neck, onto his shirt.

L was indisputably the better fighter; not only had he a vast knowledge of various martial arts, but he was also capable of remaining cool and level-headed under high levels of stress. He was, after all, the world's best detective. Three times over. On the other hand, Light's fighting slowly began to break down into a mad haze of arms and legs and the distinct hope that he'd land a blow eventually, so it was hardly surprising that the detective had little difficulty in countering each of his ineffective assaults.

However, what Light was lacking in tactics and strategy, he made up for in sheer bulk. L wasn't strong enough to physically overpower him, and neither could gain the upper-hand, at least, not for more than a few seconds.

L ducked another one of Light's poorly-aimed blows and his unprotected middle a swift kick. Disoriented once more, L seized the opportunity to trip him over – unfair, yes, but many things in life were. One foot snagged neatly round Light's ankles and, within milliseconds, both were on the floor; L on Light, Light on the floor.

Another brief yet furious struggle ensued, a knee was thrown upwards in a haphazard cacophony of noise and pain, a few more blows were exchanged – each movement now weighted heavily by aching limbs and the cumbersome handcuffs – and then, with a burst of agility and brute strength, Light found himself on top of the detective, slightly unbalanced, a little precarious, but above all, smugly _victorious._

The detective's breath hitched in his chest – a short, sharp gasp – as he was made aware, once more, of how close they were…

A flush rose to his cheeks, this one less easily contained; Light was gasping, hair damp and plastered to his face – an oddity, for such a perfectionist, and it was maybe because of his own troubles he failed to notice L's expression.

L's words, however, were harder to ignore.

"L-Light… Light-kun…"

"Ryuzaki?"

"We should be going now. The taskforce will wonder… Think that we're busy. They're probably here already."

"Oh! Um…" Light frowned, a quick glance enough to cement one fact in his mind. If anybody from the taskforce saw them like this, especially that _idiot_ Matsuda – or, worse still, his father, then…

He didn't really want to the think about it.

Light slowly began to extract his limbs from L's own, idly wiping his split lip with the back of his hand. Perhaps it looked better than it _felt_ – being pessimistic would not help. Now, where was the mirror? Where was…?

_Oh. _

_My God._

"L!" Light hissed, agitated enough to confuse the names. "L – Ryuzaki – _whatever_. I can't go downstairs looking like this."

"I fail to see why not, Light-kun," L replied, tilting his head quizzically; his reflection followed, black hair and pale skin, dried blood and a black eye – blacker than usual, at any rate. "Personal hygiene is frivolous."

"To you, maybe. I have a reputation to keep, you know!"

"Or perhaps Light-kun is just arrogant?"

"Probably. Now hurry up. I've got to take a shower. People will start to think I'm like _you_!"

* * *

**an; i liked this chapter. i don't know why. i just… do. :D feed me reviews, please?**


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